Between Past and Present. Of Markets and more Nostalgia

 

The plan for today was ambitious - a 3.5-hour mountain drive to Kazbegi. And hike. And drive back. And then… this morning we were still tired and after hearing the alarm, Scott made a very reasonable life choice: maybe not today. The alarm was turned off with confidence, and we drifted back into sleep like responsible adults prioritizing their well-being.

Instead of conquering mountains, we opted for something slightly less demanding but equally impressive: the Chronicle of Georgia.

And what a place. Massive, dramatic, slightly surreal. Towering pillars covered in intricate carvings, telling stories. The views were just as striking, stretching out over the city - and, amusingly, offering a glimpse of what looked like a local version of Lasnamägi. Concrete blocks included. Some things really are universal in Eastern Europe. Just like the toilet there. Paid 2 lari and walked into a glorious stall with … hole in floor. After washing hands later, the money-collecting lady handed you a tiny piece of paper towel to try to dry your hands. Didn’t really work.

On the way down, we grabbed a taxi to the railway station with a simple plan: walk back toward the city center through the market. Simple plans, however, are not always respected by Tbilisi. We somehow ended up on a viaduct crossing the railway - one that had been creatively transformed into a marketplace using whatever materials were available. Boxes, wooden planks, improvisation at its finest. And of course: counterfeit goods. Lots of them.

After navigating this unexpected bazaar, we reached the actual food market. The entrance was lined with vendors selling what could generously be described as “smoothie fruits.” Realistically, most of them were one step away from fermentation. But inside? A completely different story - a proper fruit wholesale market, colorful and very few people. Bliss.

We kept walking and suddenly found ourselves on a wide, elegant promenade lined with beautiful buildings - grand, polished, bright and beautiful. And then, literally one street over: total abandonment. Houses crumbling. Yards overtaken by wild greenery. The contrast hit again - Tbilisi’s signature move. Stunning and neglected, side by side.

Next stop: a retro market. An eclectic mix of Soviet nostalgia, antiques, and - because why not - a random Temu iten here and there.

After all that exploring, we rewarded ourselves with cake at a cozy old-town café (priorities intact), followed by a strategic return to the hotel for a nap.

In the evening, we headed out again, crossing a bridge decorated with bronze statues and made our way to the cable car. This is where things took a very nostalgic turn. Apparently, we didn’t validate our transport card fast enough - or correctly - or in whatever very specific way is required - because within seconds, we were being passionately scolded and yelled at by a local guard in Georgian. A full performance. Tone, volume, hand gestures.

The ride up was so worth it. Two short minutes of absolute magic as the city opened up beneath us, in pre-sunset light. Tbilisi glowing, the river winding through it, rooftops catching the last golden rays - it was one of those really memorable moments.

At the top, we lingered, watched the sun go down, and let the city settle into evening and walked back to the hotel.